


What if we took a timeout?

by ajattra



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Romance, Smut, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-03-08
Updated: 2012-03-08
Packaged: 2017-11-01 15:53:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/358607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ajattra/pseuds/ajattra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Post Game] Quistis flees her life, ending up at Edea's house in hope of finding something she's lost along the years. Instead she finds a certain old student of hers still harboring venegeance, but not for the reason she'd thought. SeiferxQuistis</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Two Moths Entangled

There was a strange sadness in the air that night yet when Quistis finally reached her destination, the peace that lived there quickly erased her doubts. Everything was just like in her memory: timeless and calm. You could see storms coming from a great distance here, predict their coming and going. There wasn't such vision anywhere else in the world, now was there? – Just the uncertainty that came with blind luck shaping one's life.

Why had Edea wanted her to come here?

Quistis shivered as a chilling breeze passed her by, tossing her golden hair and entangling it in its flight. She didn't look as groomed as usually, just fatigued. Her battle gear lay forgotten in some closet in the Garden and her confidence with it. And while she still stood tall in a perfect posture, she seemed somewhat smaller and diminished when compared to the woman she'd been just a few years ago. Quistis had come a long way to find some answers, a shining truth she could base her life on. She really needed that right now.

The answers weren't lying in wait in open territory though. The beach was empty and a storm was approaching in the horizon, draining the dying light from the sun. The orphanage was barely standing nowadays. Time hadn't treated it well seeing how there was no one to repair the damage done by the strong winds and the power of the raging sea. Her childhood home was in ruins, much like her life was. Breathing out the anxiety, Quistis sat down on the stone steps leading from the beach to the orphanage and just stared at the pale shimmer of the waves with a blank expression.

She was so tired. Too tired to work her endless hours at the office, doing the paperwork for the Garden, since she was the only person Squall trusted in handling the workload. Lately she'd found herself throwing papers in fits of anger and releasing frustrated growls without realizing it herself. Her hands were full of paper cuts to prove how she was slipping. As long as Quistis could remember, she'd been reaching for high position in the Garden, but now that she stood next to Squall governing the entire establishment, that goal tasted like dust in her mouth.

Her despair wasn't visible to anyone else and neither was her failure. Quistis no longer knew what she'd achieved, if anything at all. She wasn't a leader like her experience as an Instructor had proved, but she didn't like being a follower either. Sure, while fighting Ultimechia beside her friends, she'd felt a burning stronger than with any of her dreams before, but after the mission had been over she just didn't fit anywhere anymore. She'd watched everyone else slowly find their places and shine whilst she'd begun to wither.

She'd walked up to Squall and let him know she was taking a vacation. He'd been surprised and offered her a suitable date in a few weeks time. Normally she would've taken it. Normally she would've shrugged off every question about the bags under her eyes with a suitable half-truth. But she hadn't taken the timeslot he'd offered her and she hadn't answered any of his questions. She was going now and she didn't know when she was coming back – this is what she'd told Squall instead. His confused face hadn't gained any answers from her either, after she'd packed her bags and left the Garden under silence despite his kind protest.

Back at her dorm she'd discarded everything that related to her life as a high-position clerk for the most expensive mercenaries in existence, taking with her only her casual clothes and an old SeeD uniform jacket. Now as she sat still and reflected on that decision it felt even more right. Quistis simply hadn't existed outside the Garden for a long time now.

It'd been at the train station that Edea had caught up with her, bidding her farewell and asking if she'd been to the orphanage recently.

Quistis had just shaken her head at her old mentor. _There is nothing there, right?_

Edea's golden eyes had looked particularly entrancing as she'd smiled back, _Well then, maybe you should._

So here she was: sitting in the same spot where she'd sat so many times as a child. Quistis' memories of her childhood were shady at best – perhaps thanks to the GFs or maybe just because there was nothing to remember about those days. She remembered sunshine and playing at the beach, a moonlight night of hide and seek and the anxiety of separation after her adoption had happened. The details escaped her still, only reaffirming her belief that they were meaningless and that she would still be with her friends whether or not they had known each other as kids or not.

With her friends she'd travelled all across the world: been to every town and city known and a few places no one even remembered anymore. Having seen and experienced so much, how could she be unable to see her own path? Maybe coming back here was about seeing where she'd gone wrong? Who knew? Edea was as cryptic as she'd always been.

Quistis stroked her arm to rub some warmth into it. Her old SeeD jacket held only sentimental value these days as it was too worn to provide any real protection from the cold, but she'd felt like wearing it anyway. It was her favourite thing of the few belongings she had. Luckily her woollen skirt rejected the cold a bit as the stone step under her was humid and freezing to sit on. Quistis had always been able to prepare for everything; she had calculated things and beaten them many times simply because she was able to push her passion aside and deal with her problems rationally. Now the ability brought little comfort and stirred very little pride in her. Now relying on intelligence and rationality made her feel weak and somehow incomplete.

It wasn't a feeling that had just appeared one morning, no; it'd grown slowly and begun blooming after she was finally able to quiet down. Her dream of being an instructor hadn't been the thing for her. Her love for Squall had been unrequited and even hope had vanished from her heart upon Rinoa's entrance into their lives. She'd been unhappier than she'd been willing to admit for a long time. Chasing the Sorceress, saving the world, rediscovering her roots: even though the journey had been needed it'd opened the hole in her chest rather than filling it.

Now she was hiding in the ruins of her lost childhood, following up on her matron's advice. What was here but sand and icy wind that lashed her face? Quistis rose from the stone step she'd been sitting on and her golden hair was instantly pulled into the aerial waltz of the wind. It flew all around her, almost floating like a broken halo that proved her self-accusations to be true. It was usually on a tight hair-do, every hair combed and placed with precision, but now just as her wandering mind it was finally allowed to roam free.

With her hands tied sternly around her upper torso she took one last look at the sea before she began climbing the stairs up to the house itself. She'd given the place a scan earlier on, discovering that one of the rooms still had a roof and four strong walls intact and thus chosen it as her accommodation for the night. She wasn't too sure if she wanted to remain in this ghastly place for another day, even if it meant she needed to hike across the Cetra area to get back to the gulf where her transportation, the White Seed Ship, was still anchored for another week. This place felt as worn and uninviting as she felt herself, but she was willing to give it and Edea's advice the benefit of doubt, even if just for one night.

The sand barely made any noise underneath her boots and the first thundering sound only echoed in the air after she'd reached the house and its safety. She walked through the garden and the main hall, making her way to her destination in silence. It'd been a long day with her having to find the courage to leave after she'd simply marched into Squall's office announcing her leave. All her friends had quickly caught on the news of her leaving, and each visited her separately, trying to find out the reasons of this sudden vacation. But eventually they had all been forced to give up trying and ended up giving her their blessing. It was strange how overly protective her friends were of her, considering she was the eldest and used to taking care of everyone. Perhaps they'd grown past her by now, and she was the one still lingering insecurely at the doorstep of adulthood?

She'd just stepped indoors when something hard and violent met with her cheek, efficiently slamming her against the open door utterly dazed. Another hit threw her across the room and onto the floor where she was quickly straddled and restrained. The arms of her glasses were disfigured in the process but the lenses were spared from damage. She grimaced in pain after a heavy weight landed on her pelvis and pressed it firmly against the humid floor. Her hands were held over her belly by a pair of strong hands. She could sense that the ambush hadn't quite been planned, but had happened more in the heat of the moment.

Her cheek felt sensitive and began aching almost immediately after the attack. She also tasted blood in her mouth when she tried to swallow the bitter taste of violence. It'd been awhile since she'd been hurt and caught so off-guard. Under normal circumstances she would've most likely seen the trap coming from miles away, but her mind so disarray she just hadn't expected to run into trouble – not here.

The back of her head was inflamed in pain and her captor had sure forced her into a difficult and uncomfortable position, but neither of these facts made her angrier than finding out her capturer's identity when she finally opened her eyes and got them to remain open: The eyes that were staring into hers almost calculatingly belonged to Seifer Almasy.

Quistis' first thought was to struggle and throw him off-balance, but she quickly decided against it. Seifer wouldn't probably resort to violence unless she provoked him, so it was better to calm down and wait and see what he had in mind. She also had to remind herself that he wasn't necessarily the enemy, seeing how he had abandoned Ultimechia in the end. There might still be some spot of decency in him that would recognize attacking her as folly; at least this is what Quistis wanted to believe.

He smiled suddenly and loosened his grip a bit, as if relieved after finding out her identity. He probably didn't even consider her to be a threat, she realized remembering how hard it had been to try and instil respect for her in him. Seifer had always rebelled against her and never even considered she could take him on.

"Instructor," he said calmly, his voice as raspy as it'd always been when he'd mockingly addressed her as his superior. "Did you come all this way alone to capture me?"

As usual Seifer thought the whole world revolved around his brilliance when in reality their encounter had been just blind luck. No one knew where Seifer was – Not even Fujin and Raijin. How could've she known he was hiding here, trying to remain below the radar? Quistis tried to move a bit, achieving little as his grip grew stronger the same moment. She tried to look away but he forced her to look at him by taking her chin between his gloved fingers and turning her face back to him.

He was clearly waiting for an answer and stalling would probably be rewarded with more violence. Quistis considered lying, but deemed it useless. Seifer was good at reading people, so it might be better to just tell the truth.

"I just came to see the orphanage. I didn't know you would be here," she explained, trying to her best to remain calm. It seemed impossible with him however, seeing how he had always had the ability to unnerve her and make her doubt her own abilities. The rebelling student had been her Achilles' Heel even back then and he'd known it.

Even now Seifer was sitting atop her seemingly relaxed and glaring down at her, like he was actually starting to enjoy his stay on top of her. Being the ladies man he was she was sure he'd been in this position countless times over, only with quite different intentions – At least he had given some appreciation to the women he'd bedded. Then just when she was about to explain her stay here further, he got off her and released her hands.

Quistis looked at his retreat with bewilderment while taking her chance to get up and straighten herself. Somehow she just didn't appear to be that tall when Seifer stood close to her and watched her every move. Usually she was in control of every space she was in, but with Seifer it'd always been a battle over authority. Now the fight seemed even more intense, as her shell finally had a crack that he could take advantage of. And somehow he seemed to sense the change in her too. She didn't want to talk about her problems, not with him anyway, so she gathered her voice and pointed his attention elsewhere with a question before he could look beyond skin-deep.

"What are you doing here Seifer? No one is accusing you of anything. You're a free man."

Not that she'd call him a man unless it wasn't for his obvious upper hand in this situation. No, he was too bratty and restless to be called a man. He couldn't take any kind of responsibility, which she'd had to learn the hard way of course. Albeit talented, Seifer had never had the heart to use his power so he might achieve something greater than his selfish accomplishments, unless you were willing to count in his dream of being a knight, which Ultimechia had abused mercilessly.

Seifer seemed surprised that she would ask him that. Yet it was impossible to tell what else was going on in his head for his face remained stoic and unmoved.

"It would seem I'm not very popular in the outside world, despite my public pardon," he eventually confessed, narrowing his eyes the slightest bit. She could see it though, how he'd been through a lot since they'd last seen. His clothes were dirty and torn, his hair uncut and his jaw unshaved. She didn't dare pity him though, no, such thoughts were like begging him to assault her again.

"Believe it or not, no one was too thrilled to see your execution, Seifer," she answered truthfully. If they weren't fighting why would've she hidden her truths behind lies? They had been without such mind games upon a time, even if she remembered very little of that time.

Seifer cocked a brow mischievously. "And why might that be, my dear Instructor?" He was apparently quite amused by their almost civilized conversation. Yet she could tell he was trigger happy enough to push her down to that floor again if she tried to flee.

To Seifer it was all a game of power. He probably still harboured malice and general dislike towards her, even though they hadn't been a student and teacher for a few years now. Besides even she knew Seifer never forgot anything, not even the smallest detail. Somewhere along the line she had offended or irritated Seifer enough to end up on 'his List' and after that it had been impossible to reason with him.

"C'mon, answer me," he taunted her, taking a small step closer as he fidgeted the handle of his gunblade. She could feel the threat in his words; it was written in the air with cruel tension. She'd always been protected by her position when it came to Seifer, for he'd deemed her a mere annoyance, but how were things now? If he wanted to get her out of his way, he'd most certainly get it done – just like that.

Quistis' glare dropped from his figure and she pointed it to the wall. She wasn't afraid of him, but rather angry at him for showing up and playing his games with her. It was the last thing she'd wanted when she should've been mending.

"I understood your motives, I still do," she said quietly, making him sharpen his hearing to make sure he was actually getting this right. "You were just trying to protect Matron – probably the only person you've ever cared about."

She glanced at him for a second to see if she'd hit or missed. Seifer remained unreadable though, merely absorbed her words eagerly and remained in place but a few meters away from her. It was a moment later that she felt the cold blade of his gunblade press against her neck. "You pity me?" Seifer's voice was very rough now, full of aggression and edge.

"Perhaps I pity myself," she replied bravely, ready to see through his threats. Quistis felt so heavy inside that the weight was worse than the blade's touch against her bare skin. She had no fear, just a glooming despair that drowned even the aching of her bruised cheek underneath it. Maybe drowning this despair this way would bring back that lovely numbness from the time she hadn't yet realized that everything was colourless.

He drew his gunblade back, puzzled by the change in the upright girl. She'd been a progeny: always knowing everything better than anyone else, always pretending to be better and now she was just shards that'd been put back together in the wrong order. It was somewhat confusing to see the iron maiden this way, so visibly vulnerable.

"Why's that Instructor?" he asked, genuinely interested in deepening the wound she was suffering from. He couldn't help it, she was a thorn in his side, had always been. Now it would seem like their roles had been reversed and he was the one holding the power here. Abusing it for a little payback was just the thing he needed to forget about his recent misfortunes.

"I'm not an instructor anymore Seifer," she explained, leaning against the wall behind her now that he wasn't holding a blade to her throat and she dared to seek for a little comfort, if only to show him she could relax in his company.

Her announcement clearly came to Seifer as a surprise for his arrogance vanished quickly. "Say again?" he requested, his voice bearing an ominous tone that she'd never heard before. It frightened her, made her regret telling him in the first place. Was this the point where he went off like a bomb and proceeded to get even for all those years he had been forced to follow her orders because she had outranked him?

"I wasn't able to grasp my dreams like you were," she explained, bitter and prepared for possible humiliation. So is this what Edea had had in mind; her explaining her failure to the one person who didn't deserve to know and gloat at her? Surely this was hell and she was taking it in fully, forced to fight in order to keep her pride intact.

"It's a shame," he said, breaking the uncomfortable silence that'd landed awhile ago. Then he just shrugged. "You worked hard to get there."

 _Worked hard to get there?_ Quistis just couldn't hold back her loathing despite the fact that Seifer was being awfully considerate of her misfortunes. The old Seifer would've laughed at her by now, mocked her further and then given into some childish whim of his to humiliate her further, but she couldn't see that now when the pain was beginning to surface again.

"You're pitying me now?" she asked, almost catty. But she continued before he had the chance to ask her just why she thought she was in any position to make vicious remarks towards him. "I don't need pity. I've been just a SeeD since the night before you ran after Rinoa and _your destiny_. I've adjusted by now."

Seifer smirked back. "There it still is, that damn cold 'iron maiden of superiority' glare," he noted dryly, that strange almost compassionate side of him gone in a flash. "You've always thought you were better than everyone else. I'm guessing it's why they realized you aren't fit for teaching."

He was trying to take the higher ground, that bastard. It agitated her, got her voice to become louder than she'd intended. "And you're still a fucking brat, Seifer!"

He grabbed her upper arm, drew her close to ensure she wouldn't try and escape him, and that she'd see just how serious he was. She flinched because of the hard grip, but didn't make a sound just stared back at him with a fierce fire dancing in her eyes for the first time since the Sorceress War. Strangely their confrontation made her feel more alive than she had felt in years.

Seifer observed this new side of her: how she showed her true feelings openly instead of trying to remain empathetic and trusting. He'd wanted to meet this Quistis for years, to get her to really open up and say what she wanted to say, but couldn't because of the role she had needed to play. Besides Instructors couldn't exactly socialize with students even if they were the same age…

It was starting to rain outside, hails by the sound of it, so he saw it fit to drag her out after him and throw her in the rain. Quistis barely kept her balance after he let her go but managed to stay on her feet and turn back to face him. Seifer was already leaning comfortably at a pillar under the roof, protected from the rain while he watched it devour her whole.

He still had his gunblade in his hand but the safety was on. He'd be the teacher this time, get her to realize what she was and had always been. She'd gotten away with it for too long, got to carry on her act, but he wasn't putting up with that anymore. This wasn't the Garden she was no longer his superior by rank.

If she tried to move he would simply push her back under the rain, his eyes told her that much. She wasn't giving up though, even after she got soaked wet from the rain and beaten by the smallish hails all around. No, she stood there and waited, glaring at him defiantly.

There was something about this sight that had him hesitate. Yeah, the memory tickled his senses now, got him to relax his arm that was holding the gunblade. She probably didn't even remember it, having the GFs fuck up her memory for years, but she'd always been best at Hide and Seek: the last one to be found. He'd usually gotten irritated after looking for her for hours and made everyone else look too, split up to beat the odds. She always found a new hiding place, outwitted everyone even at the simplest games.

One time he'd found her from the light house. Once down on the beach, she'd tagged him and they'd ran together by the shoreline until she'd slipped and fallen into the water. He'd run in right after her, to prove he could catch her naturally, and pulled her out. She'd looked the same back then, standing with her hands defiantly across her chest while she tried to claim that technically he hadn't yet caught her and that she wouldn't be the one chasing after him. An endless argument, like most of the ones that'd followed even during their teens. The only difference between here and now was that after her adoption she'd stopped apologizing afterwards.

She'd forgotten about them (about him) and become this shell of a person, a dictionary full of trivial information. Sure, she was reaching for her dreams, but how could've that been enough to keep her alive? No way was that possible then or now. The way she looked now was the living proof of it.

"What was all that talk about adjusting, because I don't see it? I don't think you've quite gotten over your failure, Quistis." He taunted her and surprised her with his observations; his relaxed way of standing filled her with worry. No one got to crack her shell, and see how she suffered inside, no one. It was essential for her survival that her friends were oblivious, that they couldn't see past her sad smile. It was how she coped with her unbearable days – by putting up an appearance.

Quistis fixed her armour; put it back in place over her wild heart, ensuring that he couldn't touch her anymore. She'd never had to discuss this, never had to tell anyone how she felt after she'd come to the Garden. She'd been strong for over a decade, stood her ground and beaten everyone else at any given task. She couldn't remember the last time she'd cried, but she was too damn close right now.

"I'm entitled to my anger," she said, her wet clothes already embracing her physique like a second skin. She felt worse inside though, knowing she was this close to breaking down in tears. But that was exactly what he wanted to see and Seifer wasn't winning this game!

"I gave everything for the Garden! Everything!"

Her ambition had kept her alive, kept her going when things had looked down, and she'd willingly sacrificed everything for her goal. When others had gone into town together spending those lazy summer days having fun, she'd sat indoors absorbing everything she read, preparing for her bright future. When she'd been asked on a date, she'd refused knowing how she needed the night to prepare for a test the following day. She'd attended every test and evaluation zealously, giving her best performance every single time. There had been no room for loneliness.

Seifer knew precisely what she meant by those words, the isolation she'd practised while pushing herself towards perfection. Sure, she'd had groupies and she was well-liked, but if you asked anyone what was her favourite colour, no one could answer that. His bet would've been red, something dark and charismatic. These thoughts made him growl. It was too easy to admire her shell and ignore what was inside.

"Yeah, you certainly traded your memories and friends for power," he retaliated, remembering the pain of rejection like it was still a fresh wound inside. He wasn't leaning against the pillar anymore, but standing with his hands crossed on his chest, his eyes fixated on her.

"What?" Quistis couldn't quite get what he was saying here. What friends was he talking about? Squall and everyone cared for her, she'd never abandoned them.

Now his face gained a predatory smile, like he knew something she wasn't willing to admit, something embarrassing. "You don't think we were friends?" He asked, observing her reaction before he continued. "We were friends, _Quisty_."

Friends? Back in the orphanage days? She had trouble believing that, Seifer was too stubborn to have accepted her company. Besides as long as she could remember he'd treated her with contempt of the worst kind, offering her nothing but insults and disrespect at worst. He hadn't even been very friendly towards her on a good mood, so no, she didn't believe him.

He noticed her doubt, could read the conclusion she reached quickly from her face. He knew she'd try and deny it: the abandonment she'd put him through because the perfect student would never do that to anyone. It served her right to have been pushed into the rain. It would serve her right to catch some nasty disease and lie down for a few weeks. But what he truly wanted for her had already happened, hadn't it? She'd failed and she knew it.

"It's easy to deny it, but unlike you, I actually remember my childhood," he shot her with another truth that hit its target and made her bleed erratically. She couldn't argue with his point because she knew he was right, so she just dropped her gaze, let the raindrops fall all over her face and drain into her wet and entangled hair.

He wanted to hurt her, she could tell, but instead of doing it the easy way, he chose to torment her mentally. He probably got more satisfaction that way too, the bastard. And yet she couldn't walk away. It was as if she had to listen – had to know why he felt such contempt towards her after all these years of having to deal with it.

"Sunny days, kids play. You were bossy even as a kid." He could see her before his eyes as she'd been: Such a beautiful child, so well-mannered and polite too, whenever she didn't have her rascally fits that were usually inspired by him. He'd wanted to corrupt her, make her less neat and clean and have her wrestle like a boy, taunt him back equally instead of crying like Selphie did. Seifer glanced at her lazily glad to see how pensive she looked as she started to shiver because of the freezing cold.

"You got adopted and it got boring. Then we entered the Garden and got fed with all of their bullshit." It really had gotten boring. With no one to break him and Squall apart their fights had gotten rougher. Edea had had trouble in getting them disciplined so off to the Garden they'd gone, although now he knew the orphanage had been closed down, so it really hadn't been Matron abandoning them, just bad circumstances.

"You were there too, a familiar face among all the worthless people. And you didn't even remember." Because when he'd seen her he'd felt safer until she'd looked back with her cold eyes and asked his name flatly, barely giving a damn. Just like that he'd been stripped from hope and one girl with messy golden hair that was always pushing him to exceed his limits.

"Not as much as a word in years; you treated me like I was a fucking nuisance." He sounded bitter, like he'd actually given a damn about their friendship, which she doubted from the bottom of her heart. Quistis could admit she'd been cold towards everyone at first. She hadn't wanted to be at the Garden until she'd come up with her goal. She'd been unapproachable until she'd realized it wasn't such a bad place to be in. Yet it did sting when he told her these details, imprinting the image of his rejection into her mind. It made the self-accusations even deeper.

"So yeah, I'm happy you didn't get what you wanted. It serves you right."

She could've yelled at him, said she was not responsible for him and that she made her own choices. The old Quistis would've for sure. This new one was on thin ice though. She just stood there mouth slightly agape, warmth escaping through her full lips. Her glasses were steamy, she barely saw anything through them, but his figure remained to be seen, the shadow didn't vanish that easily.

Seifer watched her stand there like he'd frozen time around her. He watched her slowly pick up the pieces of her pride and move to the stairs that were under the roof's protection. She then sat down on them, pulling her knees against her stomach. He didn't feel like punishing her anymore. It was clear that he'd won and seen into her core. They both knew it was pointless to continue arguing.

She kept her distance, shaking because of the cold that'd entered her body. She then removed her glasses and just stared at the old garden they were in. Even her eyelashes were dripping water onto her knees as she shivered and tried to pull herself together wearily.

"I don't remember anything," she finally told him, making him leave the weapon by the pillar and draw his coat from his back and put it on her. She held onto the coat and put her glasses back on, those hurt eyes looking around her and recognizing barely anything. She really was lost, wasn't she?

"Where's home if not at the Garden?" she asked half-heartedly, somehow unable to hold back her true feelings and put on a show for him. He'd use this against her, she knew he would, and still she just didn't care anymore. Maybe she truly deserved to be treated like this? Maybe he deserved to hurt her like she'd hurt him?

He'd always wanted to see her this way: weak and surrendering. It roused old feelings in him, old fantasies that'd kept him in line with her when she was too indifferent to his problems. Seifer had carried this wish within him for much too long: Please let me see her defeated. He'd wanted to see that knowing face long gone and replaced with confusion so desperately. Finally he felt like she wasn't the annoying distraction: a star he kept reaching for hoping to be noticed. Finally she was just another person in a crowd, someone he could reach out to and touch if he wanted to.

There was something else though too. Yeah, that gripping feeling that'd made him gasp in the dark many times: That itch that'd gotten him in bed with tall blondes before. It was her whose image appeared when he'd closed his eyes. He'd seen the sunshine she'd been and the cold woman she'd become merging in his mind and melting him with her hidden passion for him. Publicly he'd hated her, always quarrelled and rebelled, but in private he wouldn't have liked anything more than to break that ice.

This was his moment, the golden opportunity he'd been waiting for years. Quistis Trepe, who'd denied and belittled him, was having her break down right there next to him. All he had to was to move in and take her while she was too weary and confused to deny this from him. Seifer didn't hesitate; he pulled her close by placing his hand behind her neck and brought their lips together. Her lips were freezing cold: they tasted like salty water and ice, but he liked it – it fit.

Quistis tried to summon up her strength, but couldn't help feeling less connected to the world that was breaking down because of this distraction. He was warm and she was cold and when his mouth invaded hers, a maelstrom was released. She responded to the kiss, devoured his lips hungrily. He could tell she hadn't been kissed like this before; her response was too eager, too raw, but it proved his point about her passionate nature that she'd been suppressing all these years.

He pushed her down on the stone stairs, partly in the rain, and ended their kiss to see her groan in pain after hitting the stone underneath her. "Seifer," she was finally able to whisper a word of objection that he cruelly ignored by locking their lips together again. No chances for breaking this off, no chances to think about it, not when he was this close.

He caressed her sides, moved his hands between skin and clothes and enjoyed seeing her moan because of his touch. He removed her shirt, pulled down the skirt, sliding his warm hand underneath her wet undergarment. She gasped at the warm sensation against her breast and brought her cold lips to his earlobe.

"Seifer, I…," she tried to tell him again, but he wouldn't let her talk; he distracted her by opening the hatch of her bra and sliding them from her frozen skin. She was shaking by now, her sensitive skin still wet and cold and now further attacked by the chilling air. Only his coat was between her and the humid stone under her back and only he kept her from freezing out here. Seifer discarded his own shirt, pulled her up from the stairs and held her against him, as she was almost too weak to move herself. He licked at her earlobe, smiling when she tied her hands around him and bent her rigid neck to give him better access.

She was lost, driven insane by these little pleasurable jolts than run across her body. Cold, warm, sick, ecstatic – the opposites mixed together and the message made no sense to her brain. She ran her hand down his muscled arm, felt him sink his fingers in her messy hair and slide his other hand down her back. Then his hand slid further down, underneath her panties and cupped her ass. She should've felt violated, uncomfortable while writhing in his arms when his lips met with her rigid nipple and kissed it, but she didn't. He was beautiful and using her for revenge; she knew this and shut it out right now. Quistis couldn't think about consequences when she didn't even feel herself right now.

She inched closer to him, spread her legs and pulled him between her them. It thundered in the distance, or maybe it was in her mind – her reason begging her to pull away – or it could've been the lust dancing in her belly. Quistis had closed her eyes long ago, pretended she was claimed because of love, not lust. She ground her hips into his harder, finally sensing his hard on that pressed unmistakably against the joint of her legs. He was thrilled, the bitch of his own anticipation and yet he bid his time, explored every spot in her as if to make sure he missed nothing. She was feral now, her teeth biting his neck, her steamed breath tickling the spots on his skin that'd been moistened by her saliva. She was pushing herself at him, eager to move past the foreplay, into the real deal and he couldn't blame her.

Seifer was panting by now; consumed by this insatiable desire he'd carried with him for years now. The sun was setting on his unspoken wishes; they were coming true, lighting him with such wild fire he'd never experienced before. He tore the last of her underwear from his way. For the slightest moment she claimed eye contact, her blue eyes beyond bewildered and anticipating. She ran her fingertips across his regal face and inhaled victoriously as she pushed him down instead and climbed atop him. He never voiced a complaint, just revelled in the pain when his back slammed against stone and she opened his pants, finally removing the obstacle that'd kept their heated bodies from merging.

Tomorrow she would hold her breast in pain, nurture the bite marks he'd made and feel sorrow for losing a part of her whilst taken in by lunacy. But that was tomorrow; today she knew nothing of regret or distress.

TBC


	2. Ordinary world

There were nights when she still returned to the orphanage in her dreams, stirring restlessly in her bed and reliving the following morning as she'd risen from her resting place bruised and alone. As quickly as Seifer had reappeared into her life he had been gone from it. She remembered sitting in the ruins of her childhood home as the hot tears slowly gathered into her eyes and she finally cried.

Those nights were hard and even waking from the nightmare didn't comfort her, but left her distant for the following morning. He'd inflicted a terrible wound into her by leaving without a word and since this felt better than being numb to everything, she couldn't quite abandon the pain.

Memories had slowly returned to her upon visiting familiar places and she'd stayed by the beach for many days simply trying to connect with the girl she'd once been. In a way she had succeeded for the difference in her was striking: if she had been sleepwalking for years, she was now awake and seeing things very differently. It was visible in her eyes, in her smile and even in the way she spoke. Quistis had returned to the Garden a week later, having realized how everything looked different in her eyes after Seifer's revelations.

'Her timeout' – as she'd come to call her desperate escape – had quite literally shook her very foundations and made her rethink a lot of things. Even if Seifer's methods of waking her from her misery had been cruel, she could almost understand why he had done what he had done. He was full of hatred towards everyone, maybe had always been.

Quistis could now look back and realize that just like her Seifer had been thrown into the Garden without a choice and had buried himself into his dream to survive. He'd never been a mercenary at heart, even if he'd shaped his persona to convince everyone he was an ideal candidate. He'd had everyone fooled, while his outbursts and constant rebellion against the chain of command had told another story. The Garden had never been his home even if he hadn't been able to admit it himself.

Her friends had welcomed her back with open arms and worried inquiries. She'd embraced them and kept her secret tryst with Seifer a secret that she buried deep in her heart, even though she had kept nothing else from them. It'd felt like the weight had been lifted and the horrible feeling she'd carried inside was gone. She could change her life; she no longer had to submit to anything she didn't want to for the sake of being a good student, or a role model. She didn't have to break free uncontrollably from the life she didn't long for like he had done – she could take a safer route and her friends would be there to support her.

This life of adventure and constant uncertainty wasn't what she desired. Moving with the Garden, serving whomever whenever and sometimes even fighting SeeDs she'd trained herself if the situation required it – none of it had ever spoken to Quistis. She was tired of the "Ice Queen" label everyone was quick to label her with, when it reality she was a nurturing character, who'd worked hard to stand proud in the ranks of her fellow SeeDs.

However implanting the changes in her life took time and didn't happen overnight, which is why months after her encounter with Seifer she was still in the Garden dreaming of him and waking up feeling like a worn toy that he'd used and then thrown away. It was nothing like the pain she'd experienced when her hopes of Squall returning her love had been crushed, yet it hurt. How could one feel pain for being rejected by a person you didn't even care for?

So while she now acknowledged the vicious cycle, she hadn't quite yet broken out it. Ten years of her life had been spent into making her someone she didn't really care to be and it wasn't easy to examine her heart and find out what it was she really wanted. She'd given thought to countless opportunities, but most of them just didn't feel right. Quistis had seen the politics of several countries and come to realize how they all repeated the same mistakes that led to war again and again. When she thought about where to live, she could only see herself fighting on those streets or hills in the name of her Garden or whoever it was paying the bills that time. While she'd never quite considered herself to be a pacifist, she was finding out that she was tired of fighting and longed for a peaceful existence away from bickering nations and constant threats.

Perhaps it was naïve for her to desire such a life, but the more she thought about it, the less eager she became to grasp her weapon. The peace she'd experienced at the orphanage remained within her as something solid she could present to support her case with. She wanted to feel just like that for the rest of her life. She wanted to come home at the end of the day without having to wonder what time it was and how many hours she'd get to sleep because the time zones they'd crossed.

And the decision was made in silence. A plan slowly formed around this desire for peace and quiet existence.

"Squall, I have reached a decision and I would like to talk to you about it," she said, realizing then and there that the sight of Squall no longer brought her any unease as it might've before. It made her happy, because jealousy had always made her into the bad woman she didn't want to be. Finally she could let that go and be happy for Squall and Rinoa for real.

Squall turned to meet her determined gaze and his stoic face showed a sign of curiosity. She'd changed rather abruptly after her sudden holiday and Squall still couldn't quite explain why or how this had happened. He'd always been able to rely on her insight and advice, but when she had returned she'd told him she would be leaving soon and he ought to prepare for this.

"Speak your mind," he said calmly, knowing that there was little he could do to change her mind. Uncertainly had lived in her before, but it had vanished when she'd returned and this new Quistis seemed very sure of everything she did.

"The Garden was never my decision, nor did I desire it. Even though I'm good at what I do, it isn't what I want from this life," she explained while observing her friend's reaction closely. Quistis saw no reason to lie or try and save everyone's feelings. After all it was the lies to everyone and herself that had gotten her to a place in life she wasn't happy with.

"All I see in this world is war and I want to do something to help others – something that doesn't require fighting…" she paused for awhile and looked back at Squall for support. Squall hid his emotions behind the mask of leadership and he'd perfected the art during his reign as Commander. Quistis smiled warmly as her realization that she wanted the man she loved to show her just how he felt was once again reaffirmed.

"I've decided to leave for Trabia," she announced and straightened her glasses calmly. This time Squall seemed genuinely surprised. Yes well, Trabia had never been high on Squall's to-do-list. While he supported the rebuilding and reinstating of Trabia, it had always seemed like a difficult hiccup in Squall's otherwise clean record. He just didn't know what to do with the battered Garden and Trabia had ended up becoming an endless well of unfinished actions. Quite frankly Quistis had run most of the finances and planning when it had come to Trabia.

"I was hoping you would let me turn Trabia into an orphanage."

There, she'd said it. Quistis felt a weight shift from her shoulders. The world didn't need another Garden that turned kids into mercenaries, but it did need another sanctuary for all the homeless people Ultimechia's actions had doomed into poverty and misery. Quistis wanted to help more than anything. She wanted to find a place to call her home. She wanted to feel that love she'd felt when Edea had raised them in the orphanage by the sea.

Squall was frankly surprised by this turn of events, but he couldn't say she wasn't making sense. Most of the students in Trabia had already been rehabilitated elsewhere, namely in the Balamb Garden, seeing how Galbaldia Garden was still a mess from being toyed with by the Sorceress. They had been fixing the damage done by the missile attack, but rebuilding had been expensive and gotten halted on several occasions already. So while Trabia stood as a half-built school in the wilderness, it wasn't like Quistis was asking him to turn an active Garden into an orphanage with students and teachers losing their homes and jobs.

"I trust you have a plan to finance this idea of yours somehow?" Squall responded, hoping she would simply pull the numbers from her sleeve and not have him fight with everyone about money, if he chose to support her in this endeavor. As much as he was the Commander, he just hated handling booking and didn't have an understanding of numbers and business ideas the same way Quistis did. While he'd been off uniting the world through diplomacy, Quistis had taken care of the Garden's financial needs and practically run everything for him. He'd hate to let her go, but he couldn't keep her here against her will.

"Yes, I have someone who's been quite willing to pay the bills," Quistis smiled faintly. Squall looked confused for a moment, but when Quistis' smile turned into a smirk, he realized who she was talking about.

"You mean Laguna, right?" he sighed, still a bit uneasy about his father. It hadn't been easy to accept the knowledge that his father wasn't dead, but in perfect health and an idiot at that. He still blamed Laguna for abandoning him, even if there was a shaky truce between him and his father at the moment. It'd been easier to accept the truth that no king of a father would come to rescue him, when he'd still thought his parents were dead.

Quistis nodded. "He was quite taken in by my plans for Trabia. I think he still feels guilty about the way things ended up with his own family, so he wants to give something back."

Her observation hit him like a bullet. Squall hadn't really thought about it like that, but he could see Laguna might consider this to be way to redeem him. Perhaps there was more to him than just being a bumbling idiot, who'd accidentally incapacitated a sorceress?

"Fine then," Squall said after a short moment of contemplation, "You have my blessing."

Quistis hadn't really doubted it, but a wave of relief still washed over her. Squall might've been a great military leader, but with things like these he usually trusted the advice of others. She was sure that as long as she had a disaster proof plan he wouldn't be able to refuse her. And just like that Quistis actually found herself smiling at Squall. It was a genuine smile full of hope for the future – the kind she hadn't had for years.

"Now, I'd like to ask you something in return," Squall said, gaining her attention immediately. He'd given her a future to look forward to, so she would do anything in return, be it another budget draft, update his blog for him or get him a cup of coffee every morning for the remainder of her SeeD career.

"There was some unrest in Winhill the other night. The group of SeeDs that was guarding the city was challenged by a high-level monster they couldn't quite handle. The battle was interrupted by a stranger, who helped them defeat the monster. But when they found out the identity of the stranger… and well it… was Seifer."

Quistis' smile vanished quickly upon hearing Seifer's name. Suddenly she could remember the touch of his lips on her neck and the way he had decisively manipulated her into sharing his bed quite vividly. She remembered his insults and the rain beating her into submission. Squall observed her reaction, but didn't make any remarks. He knew Seifer hadn't exactly had friends at the Garden, but he'd figured Quistis would be the one person who could handle Seifer and talk some sense into him.

"Either way, it appears that he's still able to cause unrest where-ever he goes. Seifer was thrown into jail for causing disturbance when he fought the SeeDs. Now I need someone to go talk to him, get him to us and make him attend his hearing this time."

Quite frankly Squall's understanding attitude surprised Quistis. What did it matter whether Seifer was present at his hearing or not? He'd been publically cleared of his charges in the aftermath of the Sorceress War during the handling of Edea's case. Edea had given testimony on Seifer's behalf, claiming that Ultimechia had used her telepathic abilities to influence Seifer and brainwash him. Quistis hadn't believed it and neither had several of Seifer's victims, but most war crimes had been buried for the sake of achieving peace again. The leaders of the world had feared how the trials would've affected the public and chosen to give all involved public pardons – Squall and the gang included, as they had been involved in the assassination attempt of the leading figure of Galbaldia.

"Why?" Her question was almost without sound: a muffled hurtful whisper. She tried to keep the pain inside, but couldn't quite do so. Her body ached for Seifer, whereas her mind was torn between disdain and gratefulness.

"Seifer's impulsive and rash, but I don't think a day goes by that he doesn't regret everything he's done," Squall responded, recalling his conversation with Edea, Cid and the duo of Fujin and Raijin quite recently. They'd been trying to find him for awhile now, but seeing how Fujin and Raijin were needed elsewhere at the moment, he couldn't think of anyone else to look after Seifer but Quistis. Squall too had been pushing for Seifer's punishment initially, only to realize how under different circumstances it could've easily been him in Seifer's place.

"Do you think he's worthy of redemption?" Quistis asked, honestly unable to answer the question herself. She knew better than anyone that Seifer was still doing vicious deeds and still full of grudge. He might've been more of a man now than he'd been during the war, but that didn't stop him from stepping on the people he didn't respect. It hadn't stopped him from using her.

Squall answered almost without hesitation, "If it was me, I'd be happy to get another chance."

So that was it? Squall had done some soul-searching and realized he too was in danger of becoming another Seifer once upon a time? Somehow it all ringed false to Quistis' ears and made her respect Squall less. If she was truly reformed and a better person, she wouldn't have wanted everyone to treat Seifer with the same suspicion as she did, but apparently he was her one sin: A sin of regret, lust and pride.

"It's not quite that is it?" Quistis asked, sensing a secret involved in all of this. Her comment seemed to invoke a reaction from Squall though: he was visibly shaken for a moment before he returned his face to its usual unreadable expression and coughed with a strained smile. Quistis knew immediately she'd guessed right. Something else was behind all of this. Whatever it was, it had to be powerful to make Squall stand up for Seifer.

The two had always been enemies, but had most compatible spirits, even to the point that Quistis had believed she could've made them sparring partners and inspire a budding friendship this way. She chuckled at the memory of how well that plan had worked out - Needless to say that her views when she'd still been their Instructor had been colored by inexperience and a naïve view of the world. At least now she could look back on things and smile at them, instead of re-opening old wounds.

"Fine then," she finally yielded to his will, knowing fully well that if she refused the mission in order to protect herself from further heartbreak, she'd only end up thinking about him again. It was better to cut the snake's head and face him. "But this will be my final mission. After this I want to focus on Trabia."

Squall nodded as a sign of understanding. There had been other things he had hoped she would do before leaving, but somehow he felt it was important Quistis do this before she left. There would always be someone to handle the mechanical odd jobs Quistis had had her hand in, but nothing could replace Quistis' heart. She had a nurturing character and if he believed in anyone, it was her. Maybe Seifer could use such support in the hard days to come?

**TBC**


	3. Diamond Eyes

_No uniform. Dress casually in order to appear less conspicuous. Take the train there and back and don't let him wander off whenever he pleases. He'll probably try and unnerve you, but if anyone can take his mouthing off, it's you._

She'd followed his advice and put on something nice and casual. It didn't seem as tough as it had been a few years ago - by now she'd gotten comfortable in appearing in less formal clothing. To the by-passers she was just another pretty twenty-something and she realized she'd begun to appreciate this. Her rank had been the thing to define her for so long; she'd forgotten how nice it was just being someone in the crowd.

Quistis got to her destination quite quickly via the new railroad. Yeah, world peace had definitely made everyone reconsider their positions on isolation and a huge joint effort had been made to establish decent passage across the globe. The express train that ran from Esthar all the way to Winhill was one example. A similar venture was currently underway to connect Esthar to Shumi Village and Trabia, which pleased her greatly. So at least progress was being made, even if they were a long way from the goal.

Still Quistis herself thought that the healing most countries were taking part in wouldn't last. Tensions still remained underneath the flashy gestures and bloated speeches meant to inspire the crowd. And not one country had actually done anything about their recent efforts to up their security. The military business was booming underneath the political verbiage. No one wanted to be the loser in the next military conflict, which she understood quite well. With the exception of FH, everyone was training soldiers and testing new weapons with newly found zeal.

Winhill though was pretty much as quiet as Quistis had remembered from the few visits she'd made here with Squall and the others. Even if the railroad had connected it to the rest of the world and brought in lots of new people and businesses, it was a genuine place when compared to the big cities on the continent. She enjoyed walking down the cobblestone streets incognito and breathing in the fresh countryside air.

However inside her anxiety was already building. How was Seifer? Did he feel guilty for what he'd done to her? Did he think he'd broken her for good and gotten his revenge? Did he think about her as much as he plagued her thoughts?

Realistically she expected nothing less than being fed insults and a refusal to follow her wrapped in the skin of overly polite and sarcastic conversation. He probably wasn't expecting her to arrive, but he sure would take every ounce of enjoyment out of tormenting her, that much was sure. Quistis did have one reason to rejoice of that would be the case though: at least then Seifer would prove her right when she considered him irredeemable.

Quistis stopped in her own tracks, suddenly realizing how her behavior was precisely that of a scorned lover. And against all odds she found herself laughing. She was working so hard to antagonize him, as if to make sure she was justified in her bitterness towards him. Like she would be stronger, if he really was the ruthless general of Ultimechia he'd painted himself to be and not the misguided man she knew him to be. The woman she wanted to be recognized this – _her sense_ – but the woman she was condemned to be – _her heart_ – could only feel the hurt. She'd have to hide it.

She continued walking with this thought stuck on her mind like a song that wouldn't leave. A haunting memory of the truth she'd like to forget, but wasn't able to. Luckily there wasn't much road left to walk until she reached her destination, so she pushed her doubts away, focusing on the task at hand instead. She needed to convince Seifer to come with her, act civil for some time and give up his wicked ways at least until she delivered him to Squall in Esthar. Not an easy task to achieve by any means.

When she finally reached her destination, the sun had already gone to hiding behind the thick clouds and the wind was picking up on the fields. Quistis knocked gently on the wooden door and it was opened a moment later. Greeted by familiar faces she was invited inside and back to reality. One look at the two SeeDs faces was enough to tell her Seifer had put up quite a fight before being subdued. Quitis had a faint recollection of these two, but they'd never been in her class. She was however fairly certain that they had a history with Seifer.

"Miss Trepe," the other greeted her, offering her his hand to shake. He was a fresh graduate and a bit on the impulsive side, though he did follow direct orders brilliantly whenever there was someone to give them. His name escaped her, but she shook his hand as if she had perfect recollection, eager to skip the pleasantries. It wasn't like she'd have to be their superior for much longer after this mission was finished.

"Miss Trepe," the second SeeD moved in to greet her next, already invoking annoyance in her as he took her hand and gave a firm handshake. This one was a troublemaker like Seifer and also had family in Balamb where Seifer had freaked havoc until leaving it to Fujin and Raijin. Quistis was sure this hothead was the one, who'd initiated the attack. She nodded to him, removing her hand from his quickly in order to proceed.

"I would like to see the prisoner," she explained taking a step forwards in the dimly lit room. The two SeeDs seemed surprised that she wasn't interested in a report or even the story behind Seifer Almasy's capture. Truth was Quistis could read it all in their bruised faces. A nonchalant approach would most likely work better on Seifer than fuelling his fantasies of greatness.

The troublemaker stepped forward, towering above Quistis ominously. "What'll you do with him?" he asked, clearly weighing on his options. Quistis could tell this one had taken pleasure in fighting Seifer. She turned her head a bit, looking straight at him as she coolly announced, "He's coming with me and you're staying here as your contract with this city states."

Neither of the boys missed her underlying authority that stated quite clearly she wasn't in the mood for small talk or rebellion. She could finally see why some people thought she was quite the iron maiden. Truthfully though, she wasn't all talk – she had the skills to back up her talk and these boys knew it as well, which is why the troublemaker bowed out of the situation, motioning her to the door in the back of the room. "He's detained in the cell. Here's the key."

Quistis took the key from his hand and moved to the door next, ignoring her company completely now that she'd gotten her point across. They wouldn't be stupid enough to stir trouble, now would they? Still she had to make sure they weren't around when she started greasing Seifer. Quistis looked at them again after reaching the door and motioned them outside. "You're relieved for the moment. I'll take care of him," she promised, making sure they left the house before she entered Seifer's cell.

There was a certain kind of charm in Seifer's private cell. The room was small; one side made for visitors and separated from the actual cell with iron bars. But the thin rectangular windows by the roof permitted the sun to enter and light the place making it quite atmospheric. The air was thick and smelled of blood and sweat. Quistis walked by the wall furthest from the cell, trailing its surface with her hand as she made her way towards the bed at the corner. Seifer lay there in the shade, almost motionless, but clearly awake.

"Hello Seifer," Quistis said softly, stopping when she reached the bed, "long time no see."

Seifer, who'd been lying on the bed on his back, had been aware of her presence since she'd begun conversing with the two meathead SeeDs guarding him, but he hadn't moved even when she'd entered the room. He was genuinely surprised that Quistis Trepe was the one who Leonheart had sent for him, yet when he sat up on his bed and saw her face, he quickly came to the realization that she hadn't exactly come willingly.

"Quistis," he greeted her softly, getting up and walking to the bars that separated the two of them. His hands closed around two bars and observed her between those same bars. "Is this a social visit?" He then asked, taking notice of her casual clothing. "Or did you get fired from SeeD as well?"

Quistis worked hard not to get riled up by his intentionally irritating commentary. He knew as well as she did that she wouldn't have come near him if it weren't for her job. He got her tense like a guitar string just by looking at her like that, so aware of his ability to unnerve her and play her the way he wanted. The truth was he played her well too: just like a progressive visionary that got whole new melodies from her no one else was able to.

"Wouldn't you like that? Having a fan club of your own, trailing your every step? Sorry, I'm here just for business." Quistis couldn't help smirking when she slipped back into her confident, sexy skin and teased him for a change. She was leaning against the wall, her legs crossed and her tights hugging her curvy thighs and calves so beautifully. She admitted making an extra effort on her looks, just to be able to show him she wasn't falling for his act again.

Apparently her behavior was working; At least Seifer ran his eyes all across her body from her short skirt to the casual shirt blouse and the long dreamy silver pendant that fell in between her breasts. Then he returned his eyes to her face, smiling back at her in his own self-assured way. He actually chuckled at her and moved his face into the light. As she'd suspected, he was bruised and cut too, but at least it looked like his capturers had allowed him to clean his cuts.

"Doesn't quite smell like the sea, but I still enjoy the fresh air here," Seifer suddenly confessed, looking strangely dreamy and noble. She could pick up the thorn in his words though: The Sea as in the orphanage. Yeah, she loved the smell of the ocean too. They'd run around the beach as kids, picking up seashells and listening to them… oh stop! Quistis scolded herself in her mind, refusing to feel the pain of those memories.

"You'll enjoy plenty of fresh air again, after you let me take you to Esthar," she promised with a voice void of emotion. This was another job her and he was nothing but a prisoner she was transferring: Not a former lover, not a childhood friend, not a scorned student, not an enemy.

Her comment seemed to pique Seifer's interest though. "Your beloved Commander is waiting in Esthar?" he asked with a tinge of spite evident in his voice. So even if Squall had come around for Seifer, Seifer still saw Squall as nothing else, but the teacher's pet Seifer had wanted to be himself?

Quistis pushed her unruly hair to her back from her shoulders. "He believes you deserve a second chance, despite everything. Maybe you could consider rethinking your opinion of him?" She taunted him back, allowing some of her disrespect for him to show. If she just held onto this feeling, she could keep him at an arm's length.

Seifer laughed at her face though, finding all of this highly amusing. "Second chance? As a student at the Garden? What makes you think I'd want to try that again?" He mocked her unable to see a helping hand even when one was right in front of him.

Quistis stood still, didn't allow him to agitate her. She'd had the patience of a saint when she'd taught him, so why should now be any different? "No, I doubt he'd even offer, knowing your very vocal and visceral resentment of us," she informed him. "It's about the public hearing you never attended. You know the one that could've stopped the hatred of strangers towards you."

Now she was talking about his bruises and current condition. What if they hadn't been SeeDs under direct commands not to harm him further? What if it'd been someone, who Seifer had truly hurt beyond the bruising of an ego? Maybe she wouldn't be having this conversation with him.

Seifer also recognized she was being serious. Maybe there was a point to the golden-haired siren's words? Maybe it was time to stop running? Seifer abandoned the thought quickly though. He'd burned all of the bridges behind him, even his friendship with Fujin and Raijin, seeing how it wasn't one of them giving this moral lecture, but Trepe. She was looking mighty fine though – almost ravishing, he'd say. Being used suited her.

"And maybe we could all hold hands and apologize to the world we helped wreck. Maybe I should apologize to you for taking advantage of your weakness. Is that what you were hoping?" He asked, moving closer to the bars again. His eyes were piercing and full of playful lust. Obviously he still found her attractive and enjoyed these mind games.

Quistis straightened herself and moved closer to the bars as well, taking Seifer's challenge. "You have two options, Seifer: Come with me to Esthar, or run away like the spineless man you've been all your life. Personally I have no preference."

She wasn't lying either, he could sense that she'd take pleasure in knowing he was still drifting without a destination – rebelling without a cause. Her diamond eyes were harsh and cruel, where she'd once known sympathy for him. Was he the cause of this? Had he hurt her so deep? Seifer looked deep into her brilliant blue eyes, searching for that fire he'd experienced with her, the same fire that had left him marked forever.

Then he grabbed her neck and pulled her face to his, kissing her between the bars. It was a sweet kiss full of confusion and it made both of them relive the last time they'd kissed. She smelled like the outside – grain and flowers. That scent was just ethereal to him, having had this stuffy cell suffocate his senses for a few days now. But she pulled away, her pride hurt and her cool exterior visibly shaken. He'd never tell her, but she'd been even lovelier than he had dared to imagine.

For a moment there Quistis hadn't been able to hold back. She'd just leaned in and enjoyed the kiss. Well, Seifer was a good kisser, certainly better than her other romantic experiences she'd ended up sleepwalking through. But something being good didn't make it right. He had no right to kiss her anymore. So she gathered herself and inhaled the calm that'd escaped her as she put more distance between them.

"That won't do you any good this time, Seifer," she said to him. Sadness lived in her: her regret took the form of an aura he could sense clearly. She didn't look at him in the eye anymore. "Taunt me all you want, but this is one crossroad I really feel you shouldn't piss on just because you're bitter and angry."

So a chance at redemption in Esthar or the continuation of this endless road, roaming about and hiding from the world? While Esthar sounded about as tempting as spilt milk, he could feel a lump in his throat when it came to telling her to fuck off as well. She'd always been level-headed, even going as far as admitting she wasn't the one believing in him, yet somehow knowing that only made him want to prove himself. He could be worthy of something again, for even he admitted this shadow life was empty existence.

The brat prince moved his head, pushing his hands between the bars and leaning against them. His hands were there presented towards her, as if he wanted her to take them. A defiant look was on his face, but the usual piss and vinegar attitude was missing. This was a more mature Seifer, far more dangerous than the boy she'd grown up with.

Quistis didn't take his hands though, she crossed her arms across her chest, speaking softly back to him, "If you choose to come with me you'll have to stop behaving like an ass and ask to come."

Seifer actually smiled back, a wide grin she hadn't seen on his face for years. Perhaps she was a good source of amusement for him, or maybe he was actually going to come with her? Quistis didn't allow herself to relax though; she kept her distant posture and the expression that demanded him to speak aloud. Order needed to be established if she wanted to actually have him follow her. If she cared too much, he would tire her down just for the lark of it and if she tried to boss him around too much, he would just go the opposite way. Indifference would force him to follow her, if he had any desire to make her care for his fate.

Seifer observed her, sensing the change of mood and the self-control she had. She definitely knew how to play with him now. She'd caught on faster than anyone else before and this piqued his interest. Was she really as nonchalant as she would have him believe? Or was she just playing him? Was she just waiting for him to make another move on her and relive that very passionate night all those months ago?

No, Seifer had to admit to himself that Quistis Trepe was a realist. When he'd split after their very honest and brutal encounter, she'd kept no romantic dreams of him locked inside her heart. She'd recognized him for the bastard he was and would always be. Good for her, but… rather bad for him, seeing how he still awoke from his thoughts realizing that he'd been thinking of her every now and then. She was quite damaging to his calm – in a way no other woman had been before.

Maybe he ought to look into this and give his future to her knowing hands? Whether she cared or not, she always did the right thing, didn't she? Her heart was a better moral compass than any of his contemplation would ever be. Quite frankly Seifer hadn't put his life on anyone else's hands since Ultimechia had destroyed him.

"Let's go to Esthar," he whispered gleefully, submitting to whatever would be behind the curtain. He knew Squall Leonhart had been after him for some time now, quite eager to get his hands on his former sparring partner and arch nemesis, so why not go and see why? He didn't believe in this hearing bullshit for one minute, but if Trepe did, it couldn't be all false either.

Quistis had half-hoped Seifer would just refuse him and she'd have to report back to Squall that the mission was a bust. And yet here she was, taking Seifer's approval in like a breath of thick air. This had been hard enough without having to spend a very long train ride with him, locked in a cabin and trying her hardest to keep him there for the whole ride. _Don't let Seifer wander around, Squall had said._

Quistis took a deep breath. Then she dropped her arms and began walking out. "I'll have the two outside escort you to the train upon departure," she said while she walked away from him.

This actually caught Seifer by surprise. "What? Those two beat me up in the first place! Aren't you going to let me go?" he asked, moving along with her towards the other end of the room, as he desperately tried to keep contact with her.

Quistis only found this amusing. "Both are trained SeeD that know their duty. And I can't have you running around town more than you already have," she explained taking silent enjoyment of her cruel treatment of him.

Few more hours in this cell wouldn't do wonders for his personality, but it would help her relax before the train ride. She'd take a long bath at the hotel and buy a good bottle of wine she could enjoy while listening to Seifer's antics.

"Quistis," he raised his voice at her, grabbing her forearm and stopping her. This actually surprised Quistis as his firm grip was quite biting. Seifer's intense expression was even more frightening for a moment, until it softened up and he tried to work his charm on her.

"I promise I'll behave. Please take me with you. I'd rather not spend another minute here," he tried to explain like he was suggesting something mundane – Almost like staying here was a minor annoyance.

Quistis pried his fingers off her forearm and moved out of his reach. "I'll see you at the station Seifer," she simply noted with extra courtesy in her voice. Then she left him.

He couldn't quite find words at first but then a few crossed his mind and he chuckled to himself: Queen Bitch indeed. If she wasn't so lovely to gaze upon, he might've actually hurt her. Seifer bit his lip for a moment, trying to find his calm, but soon realizing it had walked out the door with that golden haired siren.

TBC


	4. The World Spins

Quistis had realized her hands were shaking for quite some time after their encounter. Even when she'd sat in the bathtub, surrounded in warmth and listening to relaxing music, she hadn't felt afloat like usually. She'd merely gone through every single thing Seifer had said and recalled his assertive face when he'd told her he was coming with her.

She couldn't tell what it was that was driving him onwards at this point in life. Squall had told her he wasn't at the best of terms with his former friends Fujin and Raijin and that despite his efforts of finding out what Seifer had been up to all these years, he hadn't found anything. So why come with her? Was there really nothing else for him out there? Was he as pathetic as he appeared to be? Of course Seifer still perceived himself to be a king, who'd been robbed of his honor and stature, even if he was the most hated man on the face of the planet right now.

She'd given the two junior SeeDs instructions to make sure Seifer made himself presentable and would be there to meet her on time. And if for some reason he would escape and she'd never see him again, well, it wouldn't be her fault, just very unfortunate. If the two SeeDs would break procedure and cause trouble with Seifer again, well she just didn't quite care. He was a big man and could take care of himself. If he happened to take care of himself and make a timely escape it wouldn't bring her to tears.

Still while she brushed her hair in front of the mirror and applied make up to bring out her eyes and lips, she did entertain the thought that maybe Seifer did intend to show up. She imagined how he would look clean shaven and with a fresh set of clothes. She wondered if he would carry himself with the same reckless pride as he always did. Would he stand tall next to her and act like a gentlemen instead of acting like the agent of anarchy she remembered him as?

By the time she ran down the stairs of her hotel room and left her key on the information desk with a smile, it was still early to go and wait for the train. She was too anxious to stand still though, so she'd decided she'd go and wait inside the station – maybe read a magazine? Most likely she would just end up tinkering her train ticket in her hands and wondering why the hell Squall had insisted that she sleep in the same cabin with Seifer?

As she walked down the street, admiring the sunset in the distance and how it lit the fields that surrounded Winhill, the thought about having to share her cabin with Seifer persisted. Squall had insisted that she find Seifer, drag him along, keep him contained in the cabin for the whole duration of the ride and then escort Seifer to Squall in the cover of the night to ensure no one would recognize Seifer. Quistis wasn't big on secrecy herself and she had no intention of babysitting for a reluctant troublemaker, but she knew that once Seifer stepped on that train he was her responsibility and she would have to make sure he didn't cause any sort of incident willingly or unwillingly.

So making sure he didn't wander off to the bar and start hitting off shots did sort of depend on her watching his every step. Still it was the worst possible option to stick them inside the same cabin. Obviously this was one of the reasons she was hoping for Seifer to make a run for it.

When she reached the train station, it was silent still. Winhill was the quiet stop at the end of the tracks. Not a lot of people travelled here or out, but traffic was increasing or so Squall had told her. But she supposed there weren't too many travelers at the station in this late hour. It was the weekend after all, so all the commuters were at home by now and the tourists weren't that active this time of year.

She sat down on the bench, ticket firmly in her hands and enjoyed the silence. She'd always liked trains – even if her liking for them wasn't as intense as Selphie's. She could picture Seifer sitting in a carriage incognito, sipping an alcohol beverage and staring sullenly out of the window. He was probably the type to sit by the corridor seeing how Squall was the window seat type. Was he also the kind of man who took his coffee black? Quistis smiled at the thought, pushing her train ticket inside her purse. She ran her hand through her loose hair absent-mindedly. The gesture reminded her of the way Seifer had raked her hair when she'd been in his arms.

An old radio set was playing at the station: they played a melancholy tune that fit quite nicely with the darkness outside. The air was fresh and cold and though her woolen skirt protected her legs, she still felt a shiver as she sat here. Quistis fixed her glasses on her nose, focusing on the haunting music. The piano score was beautiful but sad. Back in Deling, she knew quite a few nightclubs that featured this kind of music. People gathered in those places not so much to have a good time, but to escape something. She's sat in those places a couple of times herself, sitting by the bar drinking wine and letting the music take her to places. If Seifer really did show up, she would need a drink.

The clock on the wall was closing in on the train's estimated time of arrival and she was beginning to think he wouldn't arrive. Gruesome images of those two SeeDs beaten and humiliated ran through her head. She started to prepare her statement to Squall: this story of how Seifer truly was beyond help and on a path to self-destruction. She wouldn't grieve for him, for he'd only proven her right when he hadn't showed up. Engulfed in dark thoughts she got up from her seat and began searching for the train's headlights in the darkness ahead. A moment later she spotted lights in the distance and she suspected it was her train, so she moved closer to the boarding area.

And that's when the front door swung. The door had ungreased hinges so it made a distinct noise when it was opened. This got her attention and she curiously took a look at who'd arrived. She was honestly surprised to see Seifer Almasy standing by the door clean and wearing a fresh set of clothes. Despite his bruises he looked good, almost like he hadn't been held prisoner at all. Quistis turned to him, trying to find an explanation or a reasonable theory for his arrival, but she couldn't find one. She did take notice of the fact that he had arrived alone and without restraints. Now the question remained how badly had Seifer hurt his two escorts?

Seifer walked up to her, taking notice of her doubting glare and delightfully groomed appearance. She'd definitely matured during their time apart and taken the time to appreciate herself more. He appreciated the change and having had a taste of it earlier, his curiosity had simply gotten the best of him. He could tell she no longer tried to influence him through threats or authority, but instead chose to convince him that she didn't care one way or another. It was working because he didn't quite believe her, but knew she was capable of walking away at any time. So intrigued by the new Quistis he chose to follow her.

Quistis gave Seifer a long evaluating look from head and to toe and concluded that he had bought new clothes from a pricey label. There was no trace of his old style, no; he'd chosen a look that was simple and elegant. Even though he was now clean shaven and cut, she saw a trace of exhaustion in his eyes. He didn't look his age any longer, which sort of worried her. This had been present at the orphanage all those months ago, but she hadn't put much weight on it back then. Something about him felt consumed. Had his time as Ultimechia's knight really been that terrible?

"You made it," Quistis commented, reaching for his ticket from her purse. She then handed the ticket to him, releasing it from her hand the moment he took hold of it. Seifer examined her body language, noticing how she held onto the far end of the ticket and offered him to exact opposite end so their hands wouldn't touch by accident.

"I said I would," Seifer replied examining his ticket with little interest. He had had every chance to run, but the challenge Quistis had thrown at him was more intriguing than going on as a wanted man. Besides, he knew Squall had made him Quistis' responsibility and that gave him some leverage on her. Wouldn't it be fun to mess up her calm? To take this new-found confidence of hers and see what really lied underneath?

"You're not exactly the poster boy for keeping your word, Seifer," Quisted noted dryly, turning around so that she was facing the train tracks again. It might be a mistake to draw attention his character flaws, especially when he'd always thought he was so honorable, but having to escort him didn't mean she had to be nice to him.

Seifer smiled a bit to her back and slid the ticket in his coat pocket. He hadn't exactly seen her as a woman before their encounter. She'd always been just Quistis to him. Her character had been enough to make his blood boil and her uncanny ability to put him down had created the need for him to do the same to her. Maybe lust and revenge had been bad reasons to seduce her and humiliate her, but the experience had opened his eyes. She was just as human as anyone else and her frailty was quite beautiful.

She didn't let anyone rescue her. She didn't let herself have flaws. He'd never seen beyond that façade before, so when the curtain was down he'd actually seen something extraordinary. Why she hid that side of herself from the world, he couldn't quite understand.

He walked next to her, hands in his pockets and head held up high. "I will keep my word – after all, it is all I have left," he explained, making a delicate allusion to his current state. Yes, she could see why it would be important to him to regain at least some of his former credibility. It was hard being hated, having no home, no one to watch your back or even a real purpose. The only solid thing in Seifer's life – the only constant – was his ability to keep his word. How sad.

"I won't count on it," Quistis said, knowing fully that he was probably being pleasant in order to prick her harder this time around. Seifer had always expressed his mind freely, and only kept his tongue when he'd seen some advantage to it. Being courteous just wasn't a part of his charming nature.

A light flashed in the distance, and then a noise began to sound as well. The train was approaching. Quistis' heart seemed to pound a little faster. She sunk her hand in her bag, feeling the cold surface of the wine bottle she'd purchased. It would dull her edge and let everything Seifer said just slip back. Yet she ground her teeth together when his profile remained visible in her eye corner, despite the approaching doom, "You're not to cause any commotion during this trip Seifer," she said calmly.

"You'll remain in the cabin for the whole duration of the ride. No exceptions."

Seifer smirked and hid his smile behind his gloved hand. "Is that so?" He asked, envisioning her sour face as Leonheart explained these rules to her. At least he could take pleasure in her displeasure.

"I'll be there to watch you, but it would help if you don't try anything," Quistis replied. The locomotive ran past them, slowing down as the railroad cars began to distinguish from one another with the loss of speed. What had been just a blur in the dark was now a tall metallic centipede in front of them.

"I won't promise anything," Seifer admitted, already enjoying this arrangement. When she brushed her hair from her face with a sullen face he just swallowed his laughter.

"Now I know you might keep your word," she responded dryly, stepping into the train that had stopped. The doors opened before her, revealing a comfy corridor. Seifer followed behind glad to be led: It'd been such a long time since he'd allowed anyone to lead him.

Quistis slipped into a narrow corridor that was full of doors. She walked for a short while, before taking a stop to insert her train ticket into one of the doors. It revealed a nice comfy cabin as it opened and Quistis stepped in right away. Seifer followed shortly afterwards, having stopped to gaze out of the window.

He'd looked worn out to his own eyes. He'd taken some effort to clean himself after he had gotten rid off his escort, but the dark rings beneath his eyes had prevailed. They spoke of a man, who had gone through a tough couple of years – Tougher than his lovely companion could even imagine.

Upon entering the cabin Seifer immediately registered the layout and above all the lovely image of Quistis, who had laid herself on one of the sofas and was removing her boots from her feet. She was completely focused on that simple task, didn't even seem aware of him at the moment. She rubbed her tired feet with her hands, but the simple task looked rather mesmerizing. Obviously this was the sign of Seifer losing his mind for good.

Seifer stepped in; his heavy steps invading Quistis' thoughts and snapping her right back to reality. Seifer threw the bag he'd been carrying on his shoulder right next to Quistis on the ground and observed as she jumped a bit in fright. Her blue eyes were suddenly right upon him, shooting blame and hellfire. That glare made him feel cold inside.

But she settled to tilt her head and sigh while her hand moved to her mouth to hide a tired yawn. Observing her closely, Seifer moved to the sofa opposite of her and sat down. Quistis had taken her eyes from him and was now avoiding looking at him. Great, Seifer thought, realizing now that it would take a lot rile this tired woman and get her to play games with him.

They sat there for awhile in complete silence, when they both felt a small pull as the train started moving again. Their eyes met in this instance, both ready to react to anything unexpected. A soldier's training at work, of course, although neither of them was very thrilled of it.

Seifer, sensing an opportunity before him, leaned forward and crossed his hands over his lap. "How long and with what did Leonheart have to bribe you until you agreed to pick me up?" he asked, smirking self-righteously.

Quistis didn't react to his question in any visible way, even though the question was clearly something she had wished she wouldn't have to comment. Then again, what the heck… "This is my final mission, I'm quitting SeeD," she said with reservation and refused to look him in the eye. Her hand was inside her bag and squeezing the neck of the wine bottle, prepared to remove it and allow its contents to intoxicate her.

The answer caught Seifer completely off-guard. He couldn't see her doing anything else but this. This was her big dream after all. Then a thought occurred to him and it all made sense. She was doing this because he had made her realize something, wasn't she? A strange sensation of guilt washed over him in an instant. "Because I told you that you didn't deserve it?" he asked softly.

Old feelings of humiliation washed over her quickly. She remembered that night by ocean as clear as yesterday: Seifer's cutting words, his obvious hatred… She'd bared her soul before him and he'd taken it in his hands and crushed it – Such intolerable cruelty and yet he was acting like he cared right now. For what? – Round two?

"Because this was never what I wanted from my life," she said. Perhaps it was foolish to tell the truth, but all she saw before them was a long journey locked in this cabin together: No light at the end of the tunnel until she faced him and could stand proud again. Seifer had torn her apart and putting the pieces back together had been hell, but she needed to see if the new order would hold in his presence. If this confidence was more than a façade.

Quistis had laid her legs on the sofa and she was leaning against the wall, bag in her lap, hand still clasped around the wine. The window revealed nothing but their murky reflections and the only sound in the room was their breathing and the sound of the train. Seifer sat in the middle of his sofa, leaning over his knees, hands crossed and piercing eyes focused on her. His gaze burned her, filled her with uncertainty. Yet she realized she didn't want to be anywhere else right now.

Seifer was taken by her honesty. Their experience together had changed them both, given them insight that made lies obsolete, or so he would like to think. Perhaps with her honesty, he might bare himself as well? He lingered at that thought and watched the way she held onto something within her bag.

"I had a dream once," he told her, finally drawing her eyes onto him. He accepted her questioning gaze with humility, as a knight fallen from grace should. "It was corrupted by someone I trusted."

Quistis didn't know why he was talking to her; why he was telling her this. She didn't believe in the theory that was victimized and used; She'd seen his selfish nature and witnessed his desire to burn others herself. And after everything she didn't want to hear about his disappointment that he'd channeled onto others. Yet she couldn't quite bring herself to stop him now that he was finally talking.

"Was it all a spell she cast to make you hate us and everything around you?" Quistis asked with a hint of contempt. It wasn't quite mockery though, no, he could swear she wanted him to tell her this, to deceive her, because it would be easier to forgive. Too bad for her, things were not that easy.

"I was angry and she latched onto that anger, because it sustained her," he continued, ignoring her words. "And when I hurt others, I hurt myself."

Seifer could see it before his eyes: the agonized faces. They'd haunt him and he'd try and hide it, because he was the almighty General, the Sorceress' knight. He was protecting her like he was supposed to. The world was out to get her, because of blind hate and no reason. And when he hurt she would give him just a little to take off the edge; just enough to make it all pass a little easier (just enough to get him addicted). His mind was terrorized by his sins and so she would help him sleep.

Quistis didn't know what to make of his confession. She could feel there was more beneath his surface. "I've fought enough," Quistis said and sighed, "Now I just want to pick up the pieces and forget about the battlefield."

Her dream, Trabia's haven, shone bright in her mind. She'd find sanctuary there and eventually the timid years of her youth would wane and she would find happiness. She just didn't see it in her future at the Garden. And looking at Seifer, she knew he wasn't willing to fight either. He was seeking for peace, but had found none even in the edges of the world. And his sins were greater than hers.

"And price of the admission ticket is my retrieval?" Seifer asked, curious and somewhat touched by her newfound ideal. He wanted to both pierce her armor and glamour in its shine. These conflicts existed in his head, they tore at him. It was duality, betrayal and withdrawal swirled into one.

She sensed that cruel tension in his voice again. Quistis withdrew inside her shell and forgot how good it felt to tell the truth. She turned her eyes from him and lied for the first time in awhile. "It's nothing I won't gladly pay," she whispered.

TBC

 


End file.
